Evil isn't born it's made
by Aelyanne
Summary: Nine years had passed since Percival Graves had been held captive yet, he could not move on. Credence had died by his fault. The only way he saw to redeem himself was to save an obscurial. As i am just learning English, Onyx Aconite is my lovely Beta and nothing could have been done without her !
1. Chapter 1

**_Evil isn't born, it's made_**

Chapter One: _Looking for Redemption_

Nine years had passed since Percival Graves found himself freed from the cage Grindelwald had put him in. Nine years of hard work to make up for the one mistake he had committed as Head of Law Enforcement – he had lost against the famous Dark Wizard and had been held captive for several months. It shouldn't have happened, he was a talented duellist, always vigilant…but that day had been a hard one for him.

Tina Goldstein had been fired for attacking a No-maj and even if it was against the law, Graves too had wished to kill that old woman in order to free her children from her vile education. But with Goldstein off the case and a ban preventing interaction with the people of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, Graves had known he'd have a lot to do to help Credence and Charity escape their adopted Mother. It was while he was thinking about all these new elements to the case that had been knocked out by someone just behind him, incapable of seeing his aggressor. He had woken up in what would be his jail for eight months. Eight months during which he had been impersonated by the wizard who attacked him without anyone noticing. Was he so easy to imitate? Was he as cold and indifferent as his abductor for Grindelwald to confound people so easily?

Once freed, he had spent one month at his flat refusing any visitors except for those who came to nurse him. During that time he had done nothing but think about his imprisonment, about how to act now that he had been out of the game for so long; would he be able to do his job correctly? He did not even know if he was still the same person as he had been before.

As soon as he got back to work, he had asked what Grindelwald had done while impersonating him. At first, people were reluctant to tell him exactly what had been done in his name, and he could see a lot of them eyeing him suspiciously, as if he was going to strike them with a spell at any moment. Fortunately, he came across Queenie Goldstein who, seeing his troubled mind, decided to invite him for dinner with her and her sister in order to recount to him what had occurred during his captivity.

He was grateful they had agreed to show him their memories, but at the same time, the knowledge came as a heavy burden on his shoulders; people had died, the Wizarding World had almost been discovered by the No-maj and worst of all, Credence Barebone had been consumed by his magic because Grindelwald had been determined to keep fighting Scamander, causing the unstable teen to panic – a lethal state of mind for an Obscurial.

To Hell with those who said Graves was innocent in all of this – yes he had been trapped and incapable of escaping, but if only he had been a better Wizard, the boy would still be alive. Now, nine years later, he could not forget; the image of the young boy was always behind his eyelids when he closed them. That was the reason for all the articles from both the No-maj and Wizarding newspapers were spread all over his desk. Because he might have found another Obscurial – another innocent child like Credence had been, one who was suffering either from the hatred of other people, or the fear of his own powers. Graves could not let this one go without saving him. He had failed once…if he failed a second time, he would never forgive himself. No wizard or witch deserved to be punished for being who they were. Graves was ready to travel the world if it would help this child escape a cruel end.

Most of the newspaper articles were about events in the United Kingdom – huge waves that caused severe damage, several roads ripped open by an invisible force, more and more frequent storms on the south coast of the island…and a boy who had been rescued from a snowstorm on a beach by a woman. He had been alone there, at the heart of the tempest before she got to him – alone and terrified. There was a possibility that this boy was an Obscurial, or at least the victim of one. But Graves had not heard of anyone with that much power for a while – even Credence's crisis had not had an impact on the weather. Maybe he was wrong…maybe it was something else that had caused all of this, but once again, the boy. Graves had a gut feeling…

The first thing was to move to Great Britain – and for that he would have to convince Mrs Picquery to let him be the liaison between England and the United States. But it was going to be far from easy; MACUSA's foreign policy was extremely isolationist. Convincing Picquery of the necessity of an alliance, for a reason other than the breaking of the International Statute of Secrecy, would surely require a lot of persuasion, especially considering the troubled history between England and America.

As for moving to Great Britain…Grindelwald was in that area; it would be a good opportunity to help track him down. But Graves' superiors might not let him go – Grindelwald had fooled him once and going after the man would probably be seen as a foolish act. And surely, they would not want him to leave and help an English child instead of pursuing his career with MACUSA.

Percival stood from his desk and looked down at the many papers spread across it. The images were moving, showing the damage caused by the storms and the other incidents; while some showed the results of Grindelwald's activities…he had to do something, and to hell with what people might think of him! He clenched his fists, pain and anger flashing through his mind. He was not prey, he was not afraid of the Dark Wizard; he would save this child. He was not a coward who desired nothing more than to sit on his ass all day long. No, he had to act and no one would get in his way. He took a quick glance at the mirror, rearranged his robes, gathered his papers and left his office in order to find the President.

While walking through the long corridors to reach the elevator Percival took note of the changes that had happened within his mind since he had been freed. No longer was he the proud and oh-so-sure-of-himself Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – he did not bark orders to his Aurors anymore and he was not able to give his trust as easily as before; he had started to reject help of any kind. Now he was even more distant when addressed and barely spoke to the people around him. Not out of fear, but more from a feeling of weariness – weariness of being in the same place for years, of having to talk to the same people who were unable to understand that a war was coming in the No-maj world and that it might affect the Wizarding world. He felt useless and alone, no matter that it was due to his own attitude of rejection toward others. If a war was starting, should he not do something?

"Where does Mr Graves want to go?" an Elf asked with the respect due to people in the highest ranks of MACUSA. To the Wizard it sounded like the infuriating screech of a nail against metal, sharp and unpleasant.

"Floor 50," he answered in a low and cold voice.

There were just nine floors between him and his goal and maybe, between him and the beginning of a new life…if only his superior would choose to grant his request. He needed this chance to start again.

"We are at the floor you asked for Sir," the elf announced in his high, shrill voice. Graves gritted his teeth together but said nothing. He exited the lift and went to the carved door at the end of the corridor. He came to a stand in front of the wood and placed his palm against it, feeling the wards tickling his skin.

"Percival Graves. In secrecy we prosper," the door intoned as the wards recognised him. He listened to the clinking as the door unlocked and then pushed it open slowly. He took a deep breath and donned a mask of strong will and coldness.

He entered the great room – it was almost empty except for the books in the bookshelves and the large desk covered with papers. The marble walls gave off an atmosphere of affectation, but also of coldness. Picquery was seated behind her desk, her black eyes fixed on him.

"Mr Graves, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked.

Graves bowed his head slightly in a sign of respect, offering nothing more, standing tall in front of her, his mask of detachment firmly in place. He was here to ask her something and was ready to do whatever it would take to obtain what he wanted.

"Madam President, I've come to you hoping you would respond favourably to my request." His voice seemed to echo in the large space between them. She arched an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. Anyone else might have been unnerved by her silence, but Graves knew she liked him enough to hear him out. "Madam, after the events of nine years ago with Mr Scamander, the subsequent arrest of Grindelwald and his escape two years later, I think it might be useful to form an alliance between ourselves and the Ministry of Magic in England," Graves said calmly, observing his superior's reactions.

Her face seemed to darken at the mention of Grindelwald – his escape and the fact that he had fooled her was a great torment to her mind.

"Don't tell me you want to chase after Grindelwald," she said in what sounded like a growl. He didn't flinch, firm in his conviction. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her with intensity. He had expected this assumption, he knew that everyone thought he would one day go after the dark wizard and hunt him down to make him pay for what he had done. Truthfully, he could not deny that the idea had merit, but his job and taking care of his health, seeing to the recovery of his mind, had been more important to him the past few years than chasing after a shadow. He just had to wait for the other man to make a mistake, and then Graves would act.

"No, I don't. But I think that war in the No-maj world may soon break out and it could have great consequences for the wizarding world if we do nothing. I dare say, a real alliance with Great Britain could be very good for us. They are closer to the rest of Europe and know the No-majs better than we do, and they know a lot more about Grindelwald's goals. We only have to look at Scamander to see how much it could profit us to co-operate with them."

Anger flashed in her eyes but she remained in her seat, placing her right hand on the desk. She looked like an eagle ready to swoop down on her prey, but it left Graves completely indifferent. "Wars in Europe, and furthermore, in the No-maj world, are not our concern. You are the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, the Head of our Auror Corps, you are to stay here. International Relations are not something you have to worry about Mr Graves."

He took a step toward her, his long black coat swirling behind him, his eyes darkening as he felt anger filling his veins. Maybe he was under her command but he was definitely master of his own convictions and if he wanted to go, he would. He was only here in the hope of having an official licence to be in the United Kingdom, but he could manage without it; the child needed help, the European wizarding communities needed help. "So we just stand here and let the slaughter begin, without moving our asses from this place? Do you know why Grindelwald was able to invade our society so easily? Because we believe what the media tells us, we are not given precious information on his activities. International co-operation is necessary if we want to protect our community and to progress."

He paused to let her ponder his words. Her whole body had tensed as she listened to him. Graves knew he was being reckless and pushing her to her limits; this woman craved secrecy and isolationism. He too had shared her ideas, but it seemed a long time ago to him. He had changed and could not stand this rejection of the rest of their world. He was not about to reveal his world to the wider No-maj community, but he also knew that there was one No-maj who had done his best to help the wizarding world (and had been forced to forget about everything – Graves could not deny that the laws preventing the No-maj from being with Queenie Goldstein were utterly stupid). Graves also knew that talking with strangers was a way to open one's mind, to learn and grow to be a better person.

"Are you aware of how insufferable your behaviour is Mr Graves? If I did not hold you in such high esteem, you would already have been fired. What do you really want to do in England?"

She was clever, something he appreciated about her. He raised his hand and all the articles he had found floated over to hover in front of the President's eyes – she looked at them carefully, seeming interested. He patiently allowed her the time to read. When she finished she looked up at him. "You are after another Obscurial, aren't you?" she said in a whisper which echoed in the marble room.

He nodded. "I was not able to save Credence…" he began, his voice low.

"It was not your fault!" she cut in quickly.

He calmly raised a hand, asking her silently not to interrupt him. He did not need her pity. He'd had time to think on the situation, and he knew perfectly well what part he had played in the horrors of that year. "It was. I need to find this one and save him. If you won't let me go and work for you in England, I will resign. I will leave America behind me and never return. I've come to a point in my life where I need to do that."

"But Mr Graves, you are aware, that if this boy really is an Obscurial, he will be hunted by Grindelwald. And even if he is lucky enough to escape, which I doubt, he will die."

He clenched his fists, fire in his veins and heart. Why was she being so pessimistic? Why did she continue to believe in the helplessness of men when they could do far more than they think if only someone believed in them? Graves had learnt the hard way that if people thought something was impossible, then they would not realise they could do it. He had thought he could not defeat Grindelwald, that it was impossible, and had made mistakes he normally would not have done. He had been beaten – Newt Scamander hadn't.

"I can save him and I will. Scamander was almost able to save the African girl. More than that, an Obscurial is a child who cannot accept themselves and their magic, causing them to develop extraordinary powers. If one could learn to love and use that magic, they may survive. And if Grindelwald comes, I will be there and I will protect the child. He learnt enough to impersonate me, but I have learnt one or two useful things about him."

She gazed at him, nodding almost imperceptibly. "I can see you won't change your mind. You've been a great Auror and to lose you will cause many problems but I understand. I will let you try and talk with the British Minister of Magic and see if we can have a partnership. If not, you will have to find a job yourself, and I won't help you with it. I suppose you have enough money to find a home?"

He nodded. He was glad she had agreed to let him go. It was the beginning of a new life for him.

He spent the rest of the day planning his departure with her. Soon, he would be in the United Kingdom. Soon, he would be at the child's side.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two : Welcome to England.

The door closed behind Graves as he stood in the living room of his new flat in London. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the empty space in front of him. He put down his two bags and closed his eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the caress of the sun filtering through the windows. It felt so reassuring after the time he had spent in a dark damp cell. Now it was warm and sunny, he had space to move. He was free and it was a nice feeling to be finally where he wanted after a month of struggling to settle all his affairs. He was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement; that could not come without a lot of responsibilities and work. He had always had to check his aurors' reports, looking for clues that could set them on a path to solve a case. Or he would be the one talking with Madam President. It had taken most of his time for years and he could not remember a time without work to do, except his time locked up far from the world. He knew that Goldstein would do a great job replacing him; she had helped to stop Grindelwald and find Percival in his prison after all. Sure she was a little bit clumsy, but it was mostly because she felt awkward around him or people higher in rank than herself. He had trained her and she was one of his best aurors. But an auror that had not been able to notice something was off with him when he had been impersonated…

No, he should not think about that now that he was beginning a new life. A life far from the busy streets of New-York, far from the street he had been attacked in. He had a new job at the British ministry of Magic, a new goal. After nine years of trying to cope with the pain and the anguish, after nine years of being looked at as if he was suddenly going to kill someone, he had something to do, with no one to supervise him…

He opened his eyes again and flicked his wand. Immediately, all the walls turned a beautiful white, except the one made of bricks, and the dirt vanished. He opened one of his bags and began to magically take out his reduced furniture and return it to its original size. He was glad the kitchenette was already furnished because he would not have been able to build it by himself…

Two sofas, some armchairs, a coffee table and a large bookcase were all he needed for now. Maybe he would have some plants later, a bit of green in a room tended to calm people and he knew he needed it. Something to soothe him. Furthermore, he could not deny that having a few plants could be of some use for making potions.  
He climbed the wooden stairs up to the mezzanine were he began to place his large dark desk and shelves, but he made sure to leave an area clear of everything in order to keep exercising.

He then went into the bedroom, the door of which was close to his desk. Again, with a move of his wand he painted his walls, but in black this time, installed his furniture and placed a mirror. He was not a conceited man but after his time in jail, he found it reassuring to see his reflection. It was a way to verify he was still himself, healthy and in a place he knew; not in a cold jail, famished and hopeless.

He felt his hands shaking and his breath suddenly ran short. That dark, damp and tiny room he had had to live in for months. He could feel the cold against his skin, crawling like a thousand spiders again. He tottered, attacked by images from the time spent alone, craving for freedom at first, then just for some food and water…. He could not breathe. He could not stand. All was haziness, a black and infinite hole in which his mind was whirling in vain.

He would have fallen down if he had not reached instinctively for the wall. A hard wall, not damp. Dry. Not his cell. He had to open his eyes. He had to breathe. It was nine years ago. He was safe now… He could see the different tints of black in the room, the glossy aspect of the walls, the reassuring cream-coloured furniture, the shy light of the sun on his skin. He was safe. He leant his head against the cool wall. Safe…

Those anxiety attacks had to stop. He had nothing to be afraid of. He was well settled in London, had carried out a money transfer from his bank to Gringotts, he had a job, he knew what he had to do here. He had a goal for the first time in years and it was more important than anything.

The British Minister for Magic, Hector Fawley, had agreed to give Percival two weeks to lead an investigation into the strange events happening around London and on the shore, but once the two weeks were over, he would have to go to work at the ministry. He was not displeased with this new arrangement. He would work with the aurors half of his time, the other half would serve the cooperation between the magical American society and the British one. Furthermore, he would have two days off every week so he would be able to lead his inquiry into the obscurial on his own. He was not as tied down as he had been in his own country since the Grindelwald incident.

When he had been set free, he had worked even harder than before, trying to make up for the actions of the dark wizard, while knowing perfectly well that nothing would be enough to change the opinions of those around him, or to satisfy himself. He was also aware he was being watched constantly, people fearing he would lose control and act like the wizard who had impersonated him for months. Now he was freed from this pressure and could act the way he wanted. And the first thing he had decided to do on his quest for an obscurial was to go to the shore where a boy had been saved from a storm by an unknown woman.

The next day, Percival Graves stood in front of his looking glass, knotting a burgundy tie. Today, he was going to Brighton in the hope of finding someone able to give him more information about what had happened two months before he arrived in Great Britain. He surely looked no-maj enough to avoid drawing attention to himself, he should not worry, he often had been in contact with no-majs when he was in New-York, why would it be different here ?

He put on a disillusionment charm and apparated to the shore he remembered seeing in the newspapers. He felt the habitual sense of being compressed before he could breathe freely again and open his eyes. He could hear the waves colliding with the black pebbles, he could see the white foam swaying on the dark blue expanse. No one was to be seen on the shore, surely because of the wind that was howling like a pack of hungry wolves.

For a while, Percival looked around him to make sure he was not observed, then he lifted the charm concealing him from the world's gaze. He let a sigh escape from his lips at the idea of being forced to talk to no-majs in order to find out more about what had happened. He had nothing against them, but he knew he had an American accent and that he would seem suspect. He would have to carry on with his plan and make them believe he was a newcomer who wanted to settle in the area but having heard of the incident on the beach had become unsure. He needed more information about it, before deciding whether…

When he looked toward the coast and the beginning of the town, he noticed a path leading from the beach to the first houses that were visible from where he stood. He decided to take the path, wanting to reach the first habitations as soon as possible.  
Two months after the storm, he still could see the damages it had caused : some front gardens had been battered by the strength of the disaster. Was he right in believing it was the work of an obscurial ? Maybe it was just a storm and nothing magical had caused it. Maybe it was all part of his imagination and of his desire to redeem himself. What if he was wrong ? What if there was no obscurial at all in Great Britain? He would have done all these things for nothing? It might not be for nothing, at least he was where Grindelwald was, in Europe. He would be able to act… As long as he did not act like he had before… If he was not as weak as when he had been attacked in this street.  
Now that he was in front of a door, he was being hesitant. It was so stupid ! Percival Graves, the former Head of Magical Law Enforcement was being hesitant in front of a no-maj door. Why? Was he so desperate to have his ideas proved right that he was almost unable to knock for fear of being wrong ? He was from MACUSA Mercy Lewis ! What the hell was wrong with him ? He was from Wampus' house, he was not a coward and he had already reflected on his plan. It would be alright.

He knocked and took a step back so as not to seem too invasive. It took a moment for someone to come and open the door. A moment during which Percival was able to put up a mask of shyness. It felt like spying on those New Salem Philanthropic Society fanatics again and strangely enough, it felt good to him. Just like the time before he was held captive. Free to use the way he chose to get things done.

A forty or so year-old woman appeared on the threshold, nervously eyeing him as if he was a potential danger. Why did she look so nervous ? Was it a disreputable place ? Percival tried a little smile in her direction and spoke immediately to reassure her.

"I am sorry to disturb you madam. I am new here and I heard about the sea storm. I was wondering if it was something usual here… You see, I want to find a house here but… I don't think I could handle such events."

He saw worry in her eyes at the mention of the storm. So she had surely witnessed it and would surely be a good way to gain new information. But her little step back, her gaze… She seemed hesitant to talk to him; surely she did not like strangers and as he was one, she was being wary. And after all, he was an American, an isolationist whose country had only helped when threatened during the no-majs world war…

"It was something really unusual but I am sure you will find more information at the town hall. They are more likely to help you than me."

He saw her move to close the door. He could not let her do that. He needed to know more. What the boy looked like, what really happened that day and what the boy has become.

"Please. I need you. You know they will do their job and will likely tell me any old story to persuade me to buy a house here. I really want to know."

He made his voice sound pleading, as if he was lost and she represented his only hope. She stopped in her movements, looking at him, as if to judge if he was lying or not, but Percival Graves was an auror, he had known for years how to put on a good mask and how to deceive someone.

"Well. It is the first time it happened since I have been here, but the storm was really impressive and there was a lot of damage. We were terrified by it and by the cries that could be heard. There was a boy you see. But a woman rescued him. That's all I know. I hope never to see that again."

It was what he had read in the newspapers, the only new piece of information was that the boy that had been rescued was terrified, so it meant that either he was not responsible for it at all or he did not know he was responsible for it. He tried to seem horrified by what she said, and it seemed to work because she was looking at him more kindly.

"The… The boy ? Do… Do you know if he is all right?"

His voice shivered when he spoke. He knew he must be all right because no one talked about the recent death of a young boy. But he had to play his role, to dupe her to gain more information. He had to know if this boy was an obscurial or not. If he was, he was in grave danger; from himself and surely from Grindelwald and his fanatics. If there was something Graves knew very well, it was that being under Grindelwald's control was the most dreadful experience one could undergo.

"I'm sorry but I don't, sir. What I know is that the woman went to Camden's house, number 9. He would be able to help you if you truly care. Now I bid you a good day."

She slammed the door shut. Graves stood there, outraged and incredulous. How did she dare to slam the door? To him ? An urgent need to hex her filled his mind, but he forced himself to calm down. He did not want to have problems with the Ministry of Magic, he had worked too hard to ruin all of his plans like that.

He took a deep breath, turned around and walked away, looking for the ninth house to gain more information about the boy. If he was lucky, he would not be treated the same way again.

A rictus appeared on his lips while thinking of this woman. What a lonely and boring life she must have to act like this with strangers who were only looking for help. Despite the fact he was on another continent, people were just the same. It was always the same game of cat and mouse; he had to lie and use his skills at their best to make people confess and give him what he wanted. Humans were all the same, trying to overcome hardships of life. Only their way of doing it would change, but they were all the same : easily corrupted, craving a better life and unable to be satisfied with what they had; trying to hide their personality so as not to be fully understood by a stranger. What they did not know was that they understood each other without even noticing, because they all had the same fundamental needs; and that was what mattered when you were doing Graves' job: playing on these needs.

He was in front of the house. He walked to the door and knocked on it, hoping someone would come. He bit his lips, faking an awkwardness he didn't actually feel. The door opened slowly and he caught glimpses of white before it was fully open. The old man facing him seemed questioning, but a kind smile lighted his wrinkled face and made his green eyes twinkle.

"What can I help you with young man ? I don't remember seeing you around here." He asked.

Graves took care of passing a hand on his neck and biting his lips one more time before he answered the man.

"I… I am sorry to bother you but I was talking to one of your neighbours to find out if buying a house here was a good idea or not. She told me about the storm and as she was mentioning a child, I grew worried about him. You see… Erm… I am a teacher so I do care about children… She said I had to ask you for more information to find out if the child is all right. But now I stand in front of you, I feel I sound like a perfect idiot and shouldn't have disturbed you… Maybe I… "

He lowered his head and took a step backward, but a firm hand posed on his shoulder, preventing him to go away. He repressed his smile, knowing his ruse had worked perfectly with the old man, and looked at him hesitantly. Once again, he was meeting the green orbs which had so much generosity in them the thought of lying almost unnerved the former Head of Magical Law. He knew it was unfair, but sometimes, he had to act this way to get things he needed and solve a case.

"Don't be sorry boy ! Come in."

The old man made a move to let him pass and Percival entered the house, following the no-maj to the cosy living room all painted in pale aqua blue. Pictures of a beautiful lady and of younger people were hung on the wall, betraying a loving man, living alone and thinking of his family. A black coffee table surrounded by three armchairs and a sofa were what the living room was mostly composed of. It gave the house a sober and yet comfortable character.

"Would you have some tea and biscuits while you tell me where you come from ? Then I will tell you about the boy. And about the neighbourhood as you want to settle here." Proposed the man.

Tea. Typically English. Percival had a liking for stronger drinks like black coffee. It was much more pleasant than this water with a little aroma to it and milk. Coffee was what was helping him staying awake during hours of administrative work. Coffee was what was preventing him from falling asleep and being engulfed in nightmares he could not get rid of…

"If it is not too much to ask, may I have coffee sir ?" He asked.

" No problem my boy. My name is James Camden, but please call me by my first name. What about you ?"

He gave the wizard a smile and went into the kitchen, whichPercival could see from where he stood. Everything was the same colour which he found depressing more than soothing, but it was still better than the complete lack of colour he had known in his cell. He briefly closed his eyes to try and get it out of his mind. He had a question to answer after all.

"Kenneth Ward."

It was one of the many different identities he had made up during his time spent working for MACUSA.

"You don't have an accent from around here. Where do you come from, the United-States?"

He knew his accent would not go unnoticed by the inhabitants, so he had made up a story about why he was in England. He looked at the floor with a saddened air he tried to make as genuine as possible. But after all, it was not that hard to do when thinking of the death of Credence or of the things he had lost over the years… He was a lonely man, with no child or woman or family, dedicated to his job, without anyone really helping him after his time in jail, except for the Goldstein sisters. It was quite depressing.

"Yes, I was living here but my fiancée… She died in a fire accident… I tried to keep up with my job… But all the things around me reminded me of her. I… I decided to leave the country to begin a whole new life."

He played nervously with his hands for a moment and then raised his head when he heard James' footsteps. The green eyes were full of compassion. A compassion Graves knew he did not deserve. He had not lost a fiancée; he had no one in his life. The only person he had lost was a child he had wanted to protect, and it was his fault the child had been killed. He did not deserve this sweetness, on the contrary, he deserved to be constantly reminded of his faults.

" I am so sorry my boy. And I didn't even offer you a seat. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Percival sat in one of the armchairs as he was asked to. The child had been killed. He had been incapable of escaping, how could he simply believe he would be able to save this one ? If he had failed once, could he not fail twice ? He had no experience with the obscurials and was not sure how he should deal with one… He was good at solving cases, resolving crisis, but he had never taken care of a child and he was not sure he would be able to be a soothing presence. However, he had to try.

The sound of the cups being set down on the wooden coffee table, cut off his gloomy train of thought. He looked up at the man sitting in front of him who gave him a little smile. Percival adopted a forced smile before taking his cup of coffee. The smell of the drink gave him comfort and enough will to engage the conversation.

" Don't be sorry. Thank you for allowing me to come in and for agreeing to answer my questions. "

"It's normal my boy. The kid had been through so much it is reassuring to meet someone who seems to genuinely care about him. Because you do care, don't you ? You are not one of those journalists waiting to find the juiciest information and publish it? The boy doesn't deserve to be displayed in newspapers. He really doesn't. "

Oh no. He was far from being a journalist and he was very glad to have chosen another job than that one. Newspapers were useful to his searches but most of the time, he could not stand journalists. Always trying to get their nose in others' businesses and when they were unsuccessful, they just wrote rubbish. However, it was not the most important thing in the old man's speech; visibly he was fond of the boy. There had been regret in his voice. Was he sad the boy was not there anymore ? Had the boy been more injured that described in the articles he had read ?

Percival felt the familiar need to understand urging him to talk and get to the truth as quickly as possible. He put a shy smile on his face again.

" No, I am not sir… Err… You said he did not need this ? Was the boy more injured than what the newspapers said ?" He asked with a look of concern.

" Not really injured. I think he felt insecure, but I don't know if it was by the situation or not. Let me tell you the whole story from the beginning."

He nodded to show the man he was ready to hear his story.

" It was the strongest storm I have ever seen! The wind was so strong it seemed to have a voice of its own, howling like a beast. I could hear the thunder rolling outside. It had been storming for a while when someone knocked at my door. I… At first I couldn't believe someone was there. But as the person was still knocking I opened the door to a soaked woman holding a child in her arms. I rushed them inside as soon as I saw the state they were in and gave them blankets and then, I lit a fire. You know… the boy… He must have been six years old judging by his height. He was terrified at first and wouldn't let go of her. It took a long time for us to calm him down. He told me his name was Tom Riddle. That's the only thing he said to me, except thanking me for my help. A good and polite lad. A good lad, yes. "

Percival could perceive the emotion in the man's eyes, he definitely was regretting something. But what ? To have let the boy go ? Surely if the boy really was an obscurial he was not surrounded by people who made him feel safe, but could it be possible that such a strong storm had been caused by a six year old boy ? Credence had been around twenty years old when he… When he died; and the damage he had caused was maybe not as awful as the damage done here. If one overlooked the murder of two people. However, if the boy was truly an obscurial, with such strength now, there was little time left before someone the raw magic killed someone. And if someone died, then it would be far more difficult for Percival to help the boy accept his magic and accept himself…

"Why… Why were they out in such weather ?" The former member of MACUSA asked.

"Lou, the young woman, told me she was going back to her friends' house when she heard desperate cries. So she decided to brave the storm to help Tom. She found him in the water… With… Well… She said something quite disturbing in fact… He had a scarf around his eyes, so it seems he was with other children playing blind man's buff before the storm; but she said there was no one around him. He came from an orphanage. But I don't know which one..."

He lowered his head. So now Graves knew why the old man seemed so upset at the idea of having let the boy go. He really was in trouble and Camden had not been able to help him as well as he would have wanted.

" I know what you will say… I should have helped him out… But I am an old man, what future would the little Tom have with me ? I hope Lou is taking measures to adopt him. She seemed very fond of him and I trust her to be perfectly able to raise the child. A gorgeous woman this Lou. Her smile is so bright and warm, you can only be reassured by her presence. I can easily understand why Tom would not let go of her. She told me she was from Cheshire and visiting friends that live near here. I am glad she was brave enough to save the little guy. Most people wouldn't have you know…"

Maybe the woman was taking care of the boy. Graves was not sure if it was good or bad news. There was a good chance she was a no-maj so she would not be able to take care of him. She may even reject him after having given him hope for a new and decent life. It would be fatal to the boy… If she had not yet adopted him, then where was the orphanage he came from ? Camden did not know anything about it, so how would he discover anything if his only source of information was useless on something that important ?

" Yes, I know. It really is sad that not a lot of people are ready to help others. I hope this Lou has adopted him. Don't you know where the children were living at the time of the storm ? Maybe I could go there, ask about what happened to Tom after Lou brought him back and if they know where the orphanage is. I haven't heard of any orphanage near this town so I think they came from somewhere else. If I find out something new I will tell you !"

Graves had made his offer in a mixture of hope and shyness he really did not feel right now. He was growing concerned about finding the boy.

" You really would do this for me ?" Asked the old man.

Graves restrained himself from rolling his eye. Sure he was going to do that, he had to be sure of the boy's safety and check if he was not an obscurial after all. He nodded and gave the man a reassuring smile and then took a sip of coffee.

He spent two hours at Camden's house before he could go. It had been a long time for him to listen calmly to the man while his mind was spinning madly. He did not like to lose time when he had to carry such an important task, but at the same time, something in him wanted to listen. He had known the man had useful information in store for him and he had not been wrong.

While walking toward the youth hostel where the children had been spending their holidays, he brooded over Tom and this woman named Lou. Was she really going to adopt the boy as Camden was hoping ? If she seemed so close to Tom, then it might be possible but if she did so, Graves knew it would be harder to find him and to say he was not pleased by this possibility was an understatement. What if Grindelwald found the boy before Graves did so ? The boy would die or be used as a weapon by the dark wizard. That Lou was no wizard, and even if Graves had a better opinion on no-majs since he met Kowalski, he knew the woman would not be able to defend Tom properly.

He sighed as he found himself in front of the building he was looking for. It was not as huge as he had imagined it, neither was it the kind of building he was used to but after all, he was not in New York City anymore and not even in England's capital city. He pushed the door open and entered a narrow room with a counter and a tall man behind it. He barely gave Percival a look before pursuing the difficult task before him, that is to say reading an empty datebook.

The former auror gazed at the man with intensity and walked toward him with an imperial air. He was not impressed by that kind of behaviour, really.

"I would like to know where the child who had been lost in the storm is living, please." He said in an icy tone.

The man looked at him right in the eyes, an infuriating smile plastered on his face. It was a shame Percival could not use magic on no-majs or he would be fired… A stinging jinx would have erased that smile of his.

" I am not supposed to give such information sir… ?"

So he wanted to play that game ? Percival decided to frown at the man and then gave him a playful grin. One look had already helped him to know enough of the man to make him yield.

" Are you supposed to be that much of a nuisance ? Not able to afford some decent clothes because of the lack of clients. Just the kids from the orphanage I presume. Your first clients in a month or two ?"

He could see the man gritting his teeth as he talked in a conniving kind of way.

"And Married ? Oh poor woman, forced to live with a man like you, without enough money to have a decent life. She might get bored and find a lover to feel a bit more cared for. Someone to fill the emptiness of her life with you. Or I could offer you a lot of money if you would just give me the information I need. It could spare you a lot of trouble you know, lad. "

He saw in the man's eyes that he had won and his smile became sharper.

"Wool's orphanage in London. " He answered.

Percival patted his shoulder and then gave him five hundred pounds before leaving. So Tom had been in London from the beginning… What an interesting piece of news.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : _A newcomer in Wool's Orphanage._

While he was making his way toward the big wooden door Percival readjusted his tie and breathed deeply. He had waited a week before going to meet the boy, trying to figure out a story explaining why he wanted to adopt a child and why he wanted to do it in under such conditions. He would use a different name this time. He knew he could not go by the name he had used with the old man because someone could find out he was after the boy and he did not want that to happen. If it did he might have to deal with Grindelwald again.

So now he was going under the name of James Madder, a doctor that had moved from the United States of America to the United Kingdom in the hope of helping more people to recover from the World War. He had hoped to start a new life in this country because his homeland was a reminder of the loneliness that had surrounded him since his parents had died. It was a sad story that might explain his desire to adopt a boy, and since he had a good job, he could be considered wealthy enough to take care of a child.

Well, for now, he was entering a new chapter in his life and he did not know how he really felt about it. He was exited to finally be close enough to the obscurial to perhaps save him, but at the same time, he was very anxious at the idea of seeing him. The last time did not bode well as he had failed miserably to save Credence. He did not want Tom to suffer the same fate as the boy from the New Salem Philanthropic Society. But then again, his failure was due to Grindelwald. Maybe this time he would succeed. If he felt he was failing, then he would search for Newton Scamander and give the child to him, for him to separate the obscurus from his host. However, if the magicozoologist was able to succeed where he had failed, would he stay with the boy? Would the boy still want Percival as a friend or would he hate him ? Thinking of being rejected made his heart ache with pain. Why was he so attached to the boy when he had never seen him ? Was it because he felt sorry and even responsible for what was happening to him ? Mercy Lewis ! The state the boy was in was not due to him, he had never been in the United Kingdom except to pay a visit to Theseus ! He should not feel that way, and yet…

He knocked on the door, knowing he was expected to come at this hour to see the children as he had planned with the director. He was soon to encounter this Tom he had so much heard about and he would finally know if the boy was the one he was looking for or not. But he was also going to see what state he was in… He was not sure he was that eager to come face to face with the damage an orphan's life could cause.

The door creaked open and a tall, thin woman stood in front of him. She was in her sixties judging by her grey hair and her wrinkles. She looked like a stern woman, not the kind of person to work with children out of desire but most likely out of lack of other things to do. However she smiled at him, even if her smile felt forced. Percival smiled back politely and greeted her, waiting for her to let him in.

"Mister Madder, isn't it?" She asked.

He nodded firmly and she stepped back to let him come in. Entering the great hall, he looked at the old wooden staircase with a frown. It was in a bad state of repair and he could smell the dust around him. It was stifling but he tried to not show his discomfort. After all, if it was worth it, he was going to spend a lot of time here so he had better get used to it. However, it was not a good environment for a child, everything seemed on the point of collapse… He was even surprised now that they had been able to afford a trip to the sea.

"I will lead you to the main room where the children have been gathered for you to see which one you want to adopt sir. "

Once again, he nodded and followed her.

"I will choose the child I want to adopt but I hope you have not forgotten that I want him to choose me as well, so I will not adopt him right away and will come twice a week for a month, as we agreed last time."

She stiffened a bit but she let him know she remembered their agreement by a quick nod. He knew she was not pleased with it because it would give him the opportunity to change his mind and to refuse adopting a child here. It was risky for her, but she needed the extra money he proposed her for his visits.

She pushed a door open and they entered what seemed to be the dining room. Again, the smell of dust took over his senses but he focused on the line of children in order to suppress a cough. There were about twenty young people, waiting for adoption. It seemed they were ranked by age and sex. The first he saw were girls, six of whom seemed to be under ten years old. He closed his eyes for a mere second, looking inside himself to find his own source of power. When he opened his eyes again, he could see the glowing energy that animated each person in the room. And just like a mere insect, he found himself attracted by a shining blue aura, enveloped in a shroud of darkness which was fighting against the beauty of the azure.

He was in front of a black haired boy whose dark eyes were staring resolutely at the floor. He was small and his skin had a slightly greyish hue that gave away the poor state he was in. So was it the Tom he had heard about ? Was he an obscurial ? To judge by his aura, he was certainly one, and even if he was not, he was the only one to have a color to his aura, which meant he was a wizard. He needed help, Percival was sure of it. This child was trembling in fear and had not looked at him a single time. That surely signified a traumatized child.

The former Head of Magical Law Enforcement turned his head to look Mrs Cole right in the eyes. She suddenly looked so scared, why ?

"I would like to know this child better." Percival announced in a cold and determined tone.

She flinched and then went to him, her body tensed in fear. He frowned at the same time his magic made itself known to his senses. He tried to calm down the sense of unease that was gaining him. Everything about this situation made him stay on his guard and his auror training was urging him to action, to defend himself, but he knew he had to act like a no-maj. What was more, if he let his magic fly and used it, he might scare the obscurial and he didn't want to do that.

" You… You can't !" She stammered.

She placed her hand on his arm and the expression on her face pleaded for indulgence. Had the people in the orphanage already understood something was wrong with Tom ? Was that the reason why he had been left alone by other children on the beach ? It would explain a lot of things…

"Why ? He is with the other children. Why could I not take care of him?"

" He is… He is evil, sir. He… You don't know him… You don't know… He is a freak…"

He felt the dark energy surging outwards around the boy's body. He saw the shining eyes that briefly looked at him. They were shining with tears. He tried to prevent his own magic from reacting to his anger. How did she dare to call a child a "freak"? No child deserved to be called that ! How he wanted to hex her for even thinking that this child was a kind of demon when he had clearly been left alone by the other children and was suffering from it ? How could she treat him like that, this woman whose passion had faded a long time ago only to leave a heartless shrew behind ?

"I am sure this lad is not evil at all."

He was trying hard to remain calm not to scare her any more but she seemed to be in a kind of delirium.

"He is ! An exorcist came and even he was not able to calm the demon inside that child ! You can't choose him ! He will hurt you ! We have other children waiting to find a family and…"

He breathed deeply to force his magic to calm down. Mercy Lewis, how he hated that woman in that moment. But he could not act rashly, he had to play by the rules to obtain the child's guardianship. He locked his gaze in hers and opted for a polite but cold tone.

" I have chosen him. Don't make me repeat it again. I want to talk to him in his room now and I don't care what this man said about him. I am going to make my own mind up about this child." He cut sharply, then he turned to look at the boy again : "What is your name, boy ?"

The answer was just a whisper, but he heard it in the silence of the room.  
" Tom Riddle, sir."

For the first time, he smiled a genuine smile, then he turned to face Mrs. Cole.

" Could we go to where he sleeps now ? I do suppose you have a room just for him as you consider him so dangerous. "

She quickly nodded and ordered the lad to follow her and Percival. They climbed the stairs and walked down a dark corridor; during that time, the American observed Tom discreetly. The young boy had kept his head low and was really small. He was wondering what his age was. He also seemed to shrink himself on purpose, as if not to impose himself on everyone's eyes. He had also noticed how much he was trembling in fear the closer they get to the room; another thing that made Percival cringe internally… This was the proof of how much the boy was in distress.

Mrs. Cole paused in front of a door and gave Percival a look that indicated how worried she was about what was going to happen. He knew that having a young wizard not able to master his powers was a horrible thing for the no-majs that did not believe in magic, but he could not understand how one can fall so low as to make a child's life a living hell.

"I wish to talk to you once you are finished here. Take your time mister Graves. You know where my office is. Tom, I will ask you to behave."

The boy nodded slightly, keeping his head low and avoiding eye contact. Percival watched as Mrs. Cole left the corridor, boring holes in her head, and then he opened the bedroom's door. It was so small, just a bed, a desk and a chair. Almost nothing personal except the drawing of what seemed to be a winged woman holding a child's hand. The drawing was nowhere near perfect, but the idea was there and one could not deny the hope that came from it. It was beautiful in an innocent and childish way which reminded the Auror of his youth, when he tried to impress his mother by his doodles, but he had soon given up on this path. He was too bad at it.

"Are you here to punish me?" Asked a little voice behind him.

Percival turned to face the boy. His expression was one of anxiety at the idea of being stuck with the American. And this question of punishment … It was not something to take lightly; if it was the first thing that came to Tom's mind, then it could mean that he was used to being punished. He clenched his fists at the idea of the boy being beaten for having shown his power without wanting it. If only he could blow something up to let go of his rage right now… How those people dared to put a child in such terrible conditions that the child thinks he deserves to be punished?

A shiver ran through his body. Why was it so cold suddenly ? He could feel his hands trembling from the low temperature and his breath alters; but it was nothing compared to the sight that was waiting for him. In his lust for vengeance on the no-majs that had hurt the kid, he had forgotten to pay attention to him and was regretting it. He should have known better than to show his hatred on his face. He was so much more composed usually, but when it came to children… And now Tom was trembling with fear, head low and clearly wanting to disappear from the adult's sight.

He had to help the boy calm down and for that, he had to calm himself first. He tried to forget the coldness of the air, just to focus on his stream of consciousness and to clear his mind. Just to breath slowly, in and out. He could change things and make them better for the kid, he was not useless. He could do something this time. There was no need to pursue a lust for blood. He should play by the rules.

"I am not here to hurt you. I am here to try and help you."

The air seemed to become thicker, as if he was in a mist; only he could still see the boy and the objects around him. It was just a feeling he had. Or was it because of the air freezing in front of him ?

"They have all said that, sir…"

It was just a whisper but Percival had heard it. Of course everyone had already said that to the black-haired boy. Once again, he had made a mistake and was not helping. How could he be that stupid ? He forced himself to calm down, knowing being upset was not going to improve the situation.

"I can only imagine. I am sorry to have shown my displeasure to you; but rest assured, I was not displeased with you. I am worried by what you said. Why a boy like you would be expecting punishment?"

He gave me a puzzled look and I could clearly see his lips tremble.

"Because it is what everyone does. I… I am… They think… all the bad things happen because of… Of me… That's why you're here. You're here to put an end to that. But I swear! I swear I did nothing wrong!"

Percival felt his heart breaking when he heard Tom talking, almost begging him to not harm him. The child seemed so scared, his complexion had grown whiter than seconds ago, his eyes grown bigger and full of tears and his body was shaking with fear… And the dark energy was pulsing around him, getting thicker by the minute. He had to do something to help him, to put that energy to rest and to stop the bedroom to become colder, else they might freeze to death.

" I am not here to hurt you. I was sincere when I said I wanted to adopt you. I am no priest nor an exorcist or whatever stupid persons might have been here with you. I would never hurt a child. "

He showed his hands to Tom, wanting to make him understand he was no threat. The child looked at his hands, then back at him and lingered once again, as if trying to assess the potentiality of a threat coming out of Percival. Then, the boy's dark eyes probed his for confirmation. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it without making a sound, then he truly spoke in a voice like a squeal.

"Pinky promise?"

Percival could not repress a smile when he heard that, and he extended his little finger, waiting for the boy to do the same. He felt the boy's magic ruffling his in a soft and timid way, the dark energy losing its grip over the child.

"Pinky promise." He answered.

"Lou said it was the best way to promise something to someone !" He said just before covering his mouth with both hands.

Clearly, he had not meant to say that… He was alarmed once again, his hands covering his head as if to prevent a blow. It made each of Percival's muscles cringe. Mercy Lewis, Tom was just a boy ! He did not deserve to be treated that badly !

"Well, she was damn right, kid !"

He seemed surprised by the answer for a while, but then, he decided to smile a bit, which gave hope to Percival : If the boy could still smile, then he could be saved. And just to see those sparks in the beautiful dark eyes, the former head of Magical Law Enforcement was ready to do whatever it took.

"So… How old are you kid ?" He asked in an attempt to break the silence with a innocent subject.

Tom gave him his best smile and showed nine fingers.

"I was nine last December !"

Percival felt his heart sunk when hearing the child speak. He was so proud of being old and surely unaware of how thin and small he was for his age. Camden was right when he'd said the kid looked like he was six years old, but knowing now what his true age was, made the former auror want to kill Mrs Cole on the spot. Why was this child starving ? Sure there had been the war, but could these no-majs not take care of children ?

"So you are a big boy now ! Did you get anything for your birthday ?"

He doubted the child would have got anything, but he wanted to keep talking with him, fearing to break this fragile trust they were building. Tom raised a brow at the question and seemed utterly surprised and perplexed by the question.

"No. I never had anything. Why would I get anything? Only good children get something."

The answer was genuine which forced Percival to hide his displeasure. How in the world was a kid not allowed to get gifts for his birthday? Even a fucking fruit would have been enough!

"Well, I don't see how you are misbehaving so I would have expected you to receive something. You don't look like a bad person to me."

His eyes grew wider for a mere second before the child took a quick step back. He was now looking at the man with nothing but distrust, as if only seeing him differently from what he had been said all his life was not possible.

"You are lying. Like everyone else has. I know I am a freak! Mrs Cole told me! Everyone comes to say that about me! I know I am not normal! Don't act like you cannot see that in me! " He cried, his eyes filling with tears.

Percival felt his heart clench in his chest. How could he make the child see without frightening him ? He could not show him magic. Not now. He would cause such distress in the child's mind that he feared the obscurial would come back and destroy the boy. He had to gain his trust first as a no-maj, then he would tell him about magic. He felt so useless! He was not gifted with kids, never had been. How could have he thought it was a good idea to come? He should go right now. And leave Tom ? No. He could not leave the child in such a state. Not when he was clearly suffering in this hell of a place.

"I will prove the others wrong. I am no liar. Maybe I am different from the others too. Like you. I don't see things like they do."

The child shook his head in refusal. He did not want to believe him which was quite understandable now Percival had begun to understand the boy. He was alone, treated like a monster and surely afraid of his magic. He had learnt to trust no one but himself. Percival knew he would have to work hard to break this attitude, but he would succeed. He would do whatever he could to help Tom.

" You won't. I know you are like them. You will promise help and you will leave me all alone."

Percival knew he had taken the right decision when he decided to go visit the child twice a week before adopting him. The first step to reach his goal was to make Tom understand he will never be alone again. Then, he would fight off the obscurus.

He took a step toward the boy, cautious not to scare him, and pulled a little black notebook out of his pocket. He gave it to the boy who took it with a skeptical look at the former member of MACUSA.

"What is it?"

"Just a blank notebook for you to write whatever you like. You can even draw in it. It's yours. I wanted to use it for my job, but I feel like it would serve you better."

He hesitated a little, then nodded.

"Thank you sir."

Percival answered with a smile. He knew it was time to go, staying would distress the child.

"I'll leave you in peace for today, you have had enough stress. I will talk with Mrs Cole and will be back later in the week. Goodbye Tom."

And so, the dark haired man left and found himself in the dusty corridor. Now he had to find the matron's office…

He walked through the dusty corridors, trying to find the matron's office. He heard some whispers and turned his head toward the stairs where two children around five years old were observing him. He felt more of them were watching him curiously. He would have agreed to that staring if only it were just because he was going to adopt a child, but he knew it was linked to their fear of Tom. They wanted to know what he was going to do to him.

" Would you be so kind as to lead me to Mrs Cole's office ?" Percival asked one of the children on the stairs.

The little girl smiled and nodded. He followed her, noticing the older orphans looking at him from the door of the dormitory. He did his best not to glare at them. If he wanted their help later to gather information, he had to be cordial to them.

When he entered the office, Percival stood still in front of the door, observing the woman from there. She seemed anxious and kind of austere in this room furnished with only a desk, some chairs and a shelf. It was very different from the mahogany desk he was used to and to the wealth of MACUSA.

"Did Tom behave correctly ?" She asked.

Percival refrained from rolling the eyes and nodded.

"Yes, Tom was really polite toward me. I wish to see him later in the week."

She looked as if she had just sucked a lemon when she heard him.

" If you want sir… But.. "

He did not let her finish her sentence.

"I will not press charges against you if my relationship with the boy turns sour. You have my word."

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely she thought the child would bring her more problems. What the former member of MACUSA did not understand was that the woman seemed to fear and hate Tom, but she was not too eager to be getting rid of him. Why not ask him to adopt Tom right away instead of letting him take his time to get to know the boy ?

''What is it that you fear in Tom Riddle ?"

She stood up and looked at him before sighing.

"When Tom's mother came here, she was on the verge of giving birth. She was already sick and barely able to push the baby out of her body before she died. She gave us his name during the coldest day I have ever seen. Since then, all kinds of strange things have happened around the boy. I have seen him go out in the rain and it was getting stronger and stronger around him, as if he was generating it himself. When he is anxious, everything becomes icy cold around him. The children playing with him always get hurt. He is evil ! There is something evil about him and I can't get rid of it ! I can't get rid of him ! I tried ! I don't want another child to get hurt and I don't want someone to adopt him and press charges against this orphanage !" She exclaimed.

Percival gritted his teeth. The claims of this woman were despicable now that he had seen the fear and sadness in the boy's eyes. But he had what he came for : new information about the boy. New things to analyze to discover how to help him. And maybe he should try to get information on his mother and then look for relatives of the boy.

"I won't press charges, I already told you so. And I am convinced Tom is a perfectly normal child who is growing up in an environment he doesn't feel comfortable with."


End file.
